A Parting of Ways
by Fainmaca
Summary: The Witcher known as Frederick of Asheberg must say goodbye to a Witcher he never expected to like, much less respect. Spoilers for the first International Run Witcher School LARP (Season 1 Episode 4).


Frederick closed his eyes, tilting his head back just a fraction as he lifted his nose into the night air, enjoying the faint scents that drifted on the evening breeze. The echo of rain, the wisps of burning charcoal from Lester's forge, the tang of metal from the armoury, all tiny fragrances amplified by the young adept's enhanced senses. He savoured each one, analysing it separately as he breathed in deeply.

Only one day had passed since Grandmaster Bastian had departed for Vizima, carrying with him the hopes of the guild that the current conflict could be resolved without further bloodshed. Only one day since the terms of the Treaty of Kaer Marter had been declared. Only one day since...

Frederick's train of thought hitched at the memory, a pulse of sorrow passing through his heart. He quickly pushed the thoughts away. He'd allowed himself a night of grief. Now... now, he had to be strong, for his friends, for the newly mutated Witchers that now walked the halls of the castle, for the guild itself.

Sighing out all of his tormented emotions, the Nightsaber turned to head inside, but before he could do so he became aware of another presence outside, a figure hiding in the shadows to one side of the large doors that led into Kaer Marter.

Frederick quickly recognised the figure of Gedymin, the Viper School Master moving with his customary furtive gait, an almost slithering step as he moved with the shadows around him. In his hands, a carefully written copy of the Treaty, one of the many Bastian had made certain to put up around the halls of Kaer Marter to ensure the adepts, both new and experienced, learned the terms fully, abiding by them to the letter. As he stepped closer to the Nightsaber, the torchlight flittered across his features, making Frederick recoil with fear and not a little revulsion.

Thick black warpaint, a mixture of charcoal dust, perhaps harvested from one of Lester's sacks of the fuel, and thick, pungent animal fat, coated his eye sockets and eyelids, leaving his eyes as lonely white dots in pools of inky blackness. The dark marks extended from his eyes, reaching back across the bowls of his temples and towards his ears in thick bands. The end result was more than a little unnerving. He looked like a monster. well, more of one than usual.

"Frederick." The seasoned Witcher nodded to the adept, eyes flickering back to the papers in his hands. "I was just looking over the terms of our new Treaty. Perhaps, as one of the few true scholars here at Kaer Marter, you could help me to understand a few points..."

"Of course, Master Gedymin." Frederick nodded meekly, curious as to the Witcher's line of thinking. Things were rarely straightforward with the Viper of Vizima. "What was it you were curious about?"

"Point number three is most interesting to me." The Witcher muttered, pointing a black-gloved finger at the page. "Most interesting..."

Frederick obediently looked to the Treaty, finding the text in question and reading it through quickly. 'All prior outstanding warrants for the arrests of Witchers will be considered null and void after the signing of the treaty.' Frederick looked up to find the Viper Master watching him with careful, slitted eyes.

"So, if I understand this correctly, I shall be granted amnesty for all my outstanding warrants one Bastian signs and ratifies the Treaty with the King?" His brow quirked quizzically. "Am I right?"

"Yes..." Frederick answered cautiously. "You'd just need to stay here, within the castle, until the Grandmaster's safe return. After that, you'd need not worry about any outstanding Temerian warrants." He paused, chewing his lip thoughtfully. "In other nations... I cannot say what would await you there."

"Where in the Treaty does it say that I must wait in the castle until Bastian returns?" Gedymin asked sharply. Frederick sighed.

"If you leave the castle before his return, the Treaty will not have taken effect yet." He explained. "Therefore, the warrants will still be active. It's only because the castle's walls and the whole army of fucking Witchers stand between you and them that nobody has tried to come and arrest you." He tried to insert a more soothing tone into his voice, trying to dissuade any foolish actions that might be stewing in the Master's mind. "Kaer Marter is a safe place to wait for the Treaty to take effect, and Bastian shall only be gone two more weeks. We just need to be a little more patient."

"So you're saying there's no formal requirement that I remain here, in the castle." Gedymin mulled over the papers again. "And in two weeks, I shall be granted amnesty for all my crimes." A gloved hand rose to stroke his chin thoughtfully. "One week to make it to Kaer Tiele..."

The Viper began to chuckle, a low, threatening sound that made Frederick's skin crawl. The wicked cackle bounced off Kaer Marter's impassive stone walls.

"Oh, how they will pay..." The glee oozed from Gedymin's words. suddenly, all essence of mirth vanished from his face, a sharp look turned in Frederick's direction. "If anyone asks you, don't tell them about our conversation here, alright? Keep it a secret between the two of us."

"Three of us." Bertram emerged from a nearby alcove, moving with surprising subtlety. The Steward of the Witchers folded his arms across his broad chest, beard creasing as a frown tugged at his features. "Still planning this, old friend?"

Gedymin only replied with a silent nod, almost reluctantly. Frederick, sensing the truth of the Viper's intentions, felt compelled to reach out to take hold of the Witcher's forearm.

"Master, please... just, don't do anything before you've fully thought out the consequences, please?" He tried to force as much earnest feeling into the words as he could, but he could see little more than a flicker in Gedymin's expression. Undeterred, Frederick pressed on. "The Temerians had us outmanoeuvred from the start. they're waiting for us to give them a reason to attack, and trying to break their stupid little circle around the castle or running back to whatever remains of Kaer Tiele would be the exact provocation they're looking for. I already have to mourn one friend, Gedymin. Please don't give these Temerian pricks a reason to make it two."

"I will move swiftly and silently." Gedymin reassured. "I will go alone to Kaer Tiele, so that I might remain undiscovered, and then I shall drown their siege in blood." His voice turned hard as steel, the flare of anger in his eyes truly frightening. "When I return I shall leave a present for Vulko under his pillow. Something simple, to the point. Nothing too fancy."

"Or perhaps you will go to only weep over the rubble that remains." Frederick tried to stress, frustrated by the Witcher's determination. "They were already inside the walls in our vision, Gedymin. The siege engines have closed in around them." He paused, trying to take a different tack. "How many do you think could survive the week it would take you to reach them, if things are already so dire? What if you must make detours to avoid capture? What if it takes you ten days, or even longer to reach them? What then, Gedymin?"

"Harlaw had plans for the keep's defence." Gedymin insisted stubbornly. "Even with his passing, Svar knows of those plans. Old Elven tunnels, deep under the castle. The keep is run through with hidden passages and hiding holes like a Koviri cheese. And deep within those tunnels, was have surprises for any foolish enough to wander inside. Some of Vester's precious 'Kabooms', dozens... maybe hundreds."

"And what about the siege equipment outside?" Frederick growled. "What will a lone Witcher do against a trebuchet? What are your knives going to do against a hundredweight of rock soaring through the air?"

The adept began to pace, frustration evident in his every word. Behind Gedymin, Bertram could only shake his head despairingly.

"What will you do with those little daggers of yours?" Frederick pointed accusingly at the weapons on Gedymin's belt, before turning a pointing finger to the holes that marred the side of his own leather armour, still caked in dried blood. "They may be fine for trying to gut young adepts, but they'll do nothing against a ballista, or a scorpion."

"Of course I can't take on their machines." Gedymin responded, his voice unnervingly calm as Frederick's own was swallowed up with emotion. "But I will make the bastards pay in blood for every rock cast against our walls, for every piece of our home they destroy." He sighed, folding the copy of the Treaty and stowing it in a wide sleeve. "We lost. Here, at Kaer Tiele, at the negotiating table, The Temerians outplayed us every time. But I'm not done yet, and I will not let go. They. Will. Pay. I'll make them fear every shadow, every whisper on the wind. I'll make them scared to go take a shit alone or lay down in their own beds. I'll make them fear the monsters they dared to provoke, and regret ever signing up to fight for the Fool-King Geddes."

"And with that you'll see the rest of the guild perish in flames, Master Viper." Frederick desperately tried to reason with him. "For every life you take, another ten soldiers shall march on Kaer Marter!"

"I need to be there for my brethren." Gedymin insisted. "And I'll take as many as I can with me." He shrugged. "Don't worry, scholar. I'll be swift, and do everything I can before the Treaty comes into effect."

"Listen, Gedymin." Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose. "Maybe you'll survive. Fuck it, maybe most of the Masters survive, and perhaps even a few of the more experienced adepts. But what about all the new ones? Those who only went through their Trial of the Grasses yesterday? Those whose bodies are still mutating? What about those yet to complete their training? if you bring the Temerian army down on our heads with your crusade of vengeance, the blood of all the adepts we lose shall soak your hands!"

"I cannot leave those in Kaer Tiele to fight this battle alone!" Strain finally began to show in Gedymin's voice, the cracks of emotion flickering around the edges. "I will go, and try to save as many as I can from the siege. After that, I will start to have my fun with our Temerian friends. And I will savour every moment of it." He turned, walking towards one of the stone lions that lined the steps to the castle. He leaned against it, regarding the night carefully. "Or am I, are we, just meant to forget about them? To let Jodok's death mean nothing? He wanted to help them, but now he's dead! Now its left up to me. I'm the only one who can. I owe it, to them, and to him!"

Frederick suppressed a shiver at hearing the Koviri Witcher's name again. Sorrow welled up inside him, but he furiously quashed it. Now was not the time to lose himself to grief.

"It would be better for you to think about those in this castle, the ones we have under our care here. Think of every Witcher life you can protect here as a victory against King Geddes, a trophy you've cheated him of." A trembling hand reached out to grasp the Witcher's shoulder. "Don't paint Jodok's legacy with a river of blood. Preserve it with as many lives as you can save."

Gedymin was still for a moment, narrowed eyes scanning the night. Finally, he turned back to Frederick with a sigh.

"No." His voice was low, quiet, resigned. "Those who remain here, you must care for them, protect them, get them out of this shitstorm if you can. I must try to save those of us who remain outside of these walls." His eyes met Frederick's, and the young Nightsaber caught a gleam of some unfamiliar emotion in them. could it have been sadness? Regret? Frederick had no way of knowing. "I cannot let go of this. They're out there, alone, fighting for their lives. Waiting for help. If that help never comes..." He voice creaked, strained. "What argument do you have against that, Frederick?"

The adept hesitated, words rising and falling in his throat unspoken. All he could do was sigh. In the darkness, his next few words felt pitifully small.

"I wanted vengeance for Jodok, Master. I almost made a grim, terrible bargain to secure it. The Mirror Man offered me a way to make the Temerians pay, to ensure we are never trifled with again. I was fortunate to see the flaw in my thinking before I sealed that awful, bloody pact." He winced, feeling a twinge from one of the many bruises that adorned his body. "Well, I was fortunate to have the stupidity beaten out of me, anyway." His eyes met Gedymin's again, sincerity flashing in them, mixed with deep sadness. "What good would it do, to take the blood of our enemies? It won't bring Jodok back. It won't mend the broken trusts and fractured relationships. All it can serve to do is drive a deeper wedge between us and the Humans."

He sighed, shoulders sagging as he let go of Gedymin, releasing the Viper's shoulder.

"If you must go to Kaer Tiele, then go. I am not your Master, I cannot command you. I simply ask that you focus only on saving the lives of your brethren, not taking the lives of your enemies."

"I will help who I can first, and save my vengeance for afterwards. That is all I can promise." The Viper bowed his head.

Frederick moved to step back, then paused, raising a cautioning finger.

"I must say this to you, Gedymin, and I ask that you bear it in mind on your journey- if the tunnels beneath Kaer Tiele are as extensive as you say, and the enemy are breaking through their defences as we speak, why have your fellows at the Wolf Keep not abandoned it? The tactically sound thing to do would be to flee, to abandon the old pile of rocks and regroup. It was Bertram who said it yesterday, and he has a point, that if your friends had planned to leave, then they could have at any time. You may need to accept the fact that your friends have chosen to stand and fight, even though it is certain to end with their deaths."

"Its a possibility." Gedymin admitted vaguely. "That's why I need to check. And if those with the knowledge of the tunnels perish, the Temerians cannot be allowed to learn of their existence. I must go and ensure this."

"Then I cannot stop you." Frederick glanced over the his shoulder, back to the silent Bertram, the Steward's expression a heartbreaking mixture of sorrow and defeat. the adept turned back to Gedymin one final time. "Just bear in mind you may not like what you find there."

The Nightsaber reached out, grasping the Master's hand with his won in a firm handshake, a nod of respect between the two.

"I wish you all the good fortune possible on your journey, Gedymin." Frederick said sincerely. "And remember- if you fail to return, you'll have the Red Griffin of Kaer Marter to answer to!"

Gedymin smiled thinly, a familiar smirk returning to his eyes as he turned to face Bertram, now stepping over to join the pair.

"Stay safe, you stupid, stupid bastard!" Bertram wrapped his arms around his old friend, drawing him into a firm embrace. "Come back in one piece, and don't bring any Temerian friends with you!"

"Not even one?" The Viper grinned wickedly. "Maybe it'd be fun to show him some famous Witcher hospitality together?"

"Just get our friends and get back here, you mad bugger!" Bertram slapped his friend's shoulder.

With a nod, Gedymin turned from his two comrades, slipping off towards the marshlands that marked one of the borders of the castle's grounds. In minutes, the Viper of Vizima was gone, and Frederick found himself gazing off into the night, fretting for his most unexpected of friends. He shivered under his cloak. The winds were stirring up, and a storm was on its way.


End file.
